Let us begin at the beginning. There was this baby, Jesus, born
in a stable about 2000 years ago. Many people, including me, think
that He is the only begotten Son of God. His birth is celebrated on
Dec. 25.
Let us begin at the beginning. There was this baby, Jesus, born in a stable about 2000 years ago. Many people, including me, think that He is the only begotten Son of God. His birth is celebrated on Dec. 25.
Three wise men visited the baby and brought Him gifts. Therefore one of the customs at Christmas is giving gifts.
In America, Christmas gift-giving is a huge fraction of the retail economy. Perhaps one-half of consumer spending is associated with Christmas sales. Therefore, selling lots of stuff at Christmas is important to retail stores.
Therefore, retail stores do a Christmas blitz. They start decorating in October: trees and lights and reindeer. They play Christmas music over the public address system to keep the customers in the mood. They advertise heavily. They stock lots of red and green clothing.
Christmas has become a frenetic orgy of shopping, which economists treat as a snapshot for how well our economy is doing. And the cashiers would say, “Merry Christmas!” Ka-ching! “Merry Christmas!” Ka-ching!
And lo, it came to pass in those days that a complaint went out from the perennially offended, saying, “It offends me to be wished a Merry Christmas.” So a decree went out from certain store managers that all the cashiers must say “Happy Holidays” instead.
I think that was a remarkably silly decision. Consider: Here is a woman with a cart full of toys, wrapping paper imprinted with Santa Clauses, candy canes, lights, tangerines, two sweaters, some bath salts, and a tie. Guess which holiday she is celebrating? C’mon.
For years, I have been responding to that milk-toast, generic “Happy Holidays” with a loud, cheerful, smiling “Merry Christmas!” I do the same thing in July when people wish me a “Happy Fourth!” I say “Happy Independence Day!” It is not just a date on the calendar. Our ancestors fought and bled, and some of them died to secure the blessings of liberty for themselves and their posterity. Let’s not trivialize their sacrifice.
This year, the rest of the religious right finally caught up to me and organized a protest. Well, maybe “organized” is too strong a word. They talk about it a lot. One group is selling “Merry Christmas!” bracelets. Another is encouraging people to send Christmas cards to the American Civil Liberties Union. Real hooligans, are they not?
Columnist Bonnie Evans wrote endorsing the protest, such as it is, and columnist Lisa Pampuch wrote excoriating the protest and Mrs. Evans. Ms. Pampuch’s statements are no surprise. She routinely goes ballistic when the religious right does anything.
She blew a gasket when certain conservative Christian parents wouldn’t let their kids read Harry Potter, merely because it glorifies witchcraft. She flipped her wig when a letter writing campaign was initiated against the American Girl doll company, merely because American Girl was supporting a website that promoted abortion and, shall we say, exploring one’s sexual orientation. Basically, whenever conservative Christians take a stand, Ms. Pampuch gets upset. But I digress.
In my opinion, it is perfectly fine for a cashier to say “Happy Holidays” if she wants to. It in not fine for her management to dictate that she say “Happy Holidays,” or “Merry Christmas,” for that matter.
There is an Internet joke making the rounds which features an office memo from the director of Human Resources announcing a Christmas party at The Grill. In the second segment, she apologizes and changes it to a holiday party. In the third segment, she apologizes again, and assures all Muslims that they can take a doggy bag home if they happen to be celebrating Ramadan.
In the fourth, she testily tells the AA employees that non-alcoholic beverages will be served. In the sixth she screams at the vegetarians that there will be a salad bar, but that the party will still be at what they so quaintly call “the grill of death.” In the sixth, the assistant director of human resources offers to forward everyone’s get well wishes to the director while she recovers from her nervous breakdown.
Our family laughed at the email, but then my husband grew somber. “How can we survive as a society if we can’t even socialize together?”
Merry Christmas. No offense.
